


Out of the Past

by WARendfeld



Series: Transformers: Armada (Revisited) [1]
Category: Transformers (Unicron Trilogy)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WARendfeld/pseuds/WARendfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When three kids discover an ancient alien pod within a dormant volcano, they set in motion a chain of events which reignites an ancient war and promises to change the course of history for not only Earth, but also the planet Cybertron and the whole cosmos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Past

Cybertron was a planet forged by war. He still remembered it clearly despite his age – the beginnings of his people, their baptism by fire as they rose up against their former masters and made their own destiny. He had hoped that once the battles were over, his world and his people could carry on their lives in peace. 

Unfortunately, that was anything but the case. 

As he glanced out from his office within the Decagon upon the cityscape of Iacon, its streets glistening in bright sunlight and its citizenry going about their business with little or no concern, Optimus Prime reflected upon the past, his bright blue optics heavy. While he was glad for the relative peace that his world now experienced, its place at the heart of an interstellar civilization, he took no joy from some of the steps taken to get there… Including the exodus of the Mini-Con population. 

He mentally chided himself while checking through another pile of datapads. There was no point in chastising oneself for things done long prior. He still had problems to face now – the management of a military force, coordination with the Cybertron High Council, the continuing threat of rogue Decepticon elements – he couldn’t afford to obsess over shadows of the past. As he looked up into the Cybertronian sky, however, those shadows crept forward in his mind.

A chirp from his communicator claimed his attention. _:“Optimus? The meeting’s about to begin.”:_

“On my way, Magnus.” 

Reminded once more of his duties in the present, the Autobot leader turned away from his window and marched out of his office. Deep in his processor, however, he continued to wonder where the small Cybertronians had gone…

-

Under clear blue skies, a young preteen boy silently rode his bike along the streets to school, quietly rolling to a halt in the school’s parking lot where the bicycle racks were located. While he wasn’t particularly eager to be attending classes today, given the beautiful weather and the fact that it was a Friday, Bradley “Rad” White knew full well that if he played hooky, his parents would have his hide. Besides, he mused as he began to chain up his bike, a little bit of suffering through classes was a fair price to pay for being able to hang out with his friends over the weekend. 

“Well, we were wondering when you’d show up, Rad.” 

Unfortunately, most of the suffering wasn’t due to his schoolwork. It was like this every morning following his arrival – the resident bullies, Billy Francis and Fred Sampson, would bother him once he arrived. There wasn’t much he could do to stop them, and the only advice his parents had given was to simply ignore the pair. Sadly, when unsupervised, the two were always near him. 

“Can’t take the bus like the rest of us?” Billy all but sneered from the top of the steps. “Feel better because of your fancy bike?”

“Billy, let’s just go already!” This time, Fred wasn’t looking at his partner’s target, instead glancing over his shoulder.

The taller of the two bullies ignored the protests of his shorter, stockier partner in crime. “Just have to show off the fancy bike, don’t you? Be a shame if someone…”

“If someone what, William?” Both Billy and Rad heard the voice, the former freezing for a moment before he turned around. Standing nearby with Fred nervously fidgeting by her side, her long brown hair tied back in a ponytail and arms crossed over her chest, was their history teacher, Diana Masters. She regarded him with a stern glare, bright blue eyes focused firmly upon the young man. “Are you going to finish that statement?”

At this point well beyond nervous, the boy gulped. “I…um, well…I was just going to say that it’d be a shame if he didn’t chain the bike up right, Ms. Masters.”

A small but humorless smile crossed the woman’s lips. “That’s what I thought. Now, you’d best get to class.” Her eyes shifted to the chunkier of the duo. “You too, Fred.”

Both immediately rushed towards the door, mumbling their agreement, and immediately began bickering just as they entered. Fred was soon protesting that he had attempted to give warning of the teacher’s arrival when Billy berated him for not doing so. 

Diana sighed through her nose as she watched them depart before turning to her remaining charge as he chained up his bike. She mentally hoped those two wouldn’t become problems in the future, if only for the other students’ sakes. No one wanted a repeat of Columbine. “Did they do anything to you, Rad?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks, though.” As the two ascended the steps, the young boy couldn’t help but ask, “How do you do that, anyway?”

“Having a father and grandfather who served in the military helps. Now, move along – first period’s in fifteen minutes.”

-

He’d been through this course a hundred times… or at least, ones similar to it. The layout was always the same – a maze-like series of roads and crossways, weaving among themselves at various intervals alongside various buildings, a constant in urban combat. What separated each time he’d been on it was what he encountered on the course, which was why his sensors were at their max and one of his rifles at the ready, finger near the trigger but not on it. As he moved to find cover, hoping to scope out his opponents and take them from a distance, his scanners rang out in warning as a training drone approached from one side, shoulder-mounted cannon at the ready and optic sensor swiveling upon its head. He ducked to one side and immediately fired off a shot, the drone slumping to indicate a hit. Several more approached, some from the same direction and others from a nearby crossway, and each quickly taken offline with ease and practiced aim. Just as he was beginning to relax, his sensors blared and an attacker came out at him from behind. Before he could turn and defend himself, the attacker was hit by a laser shot from a short distance away. His optics narrowed as he sought his rescuer. “Aren’t you supposed to be scouting ahead?” 

“Aren’t we supposed to be training together?” The red and yellow robot gave him a smirk, hopping and sliding down several support beams. “C’mon, Blurr. That drone had you.”

To call Blurr a lone-cyberwolf wasn’t entirely that far off the mark. There were times some had gossiped about him being Towers-raised, like Mirage in Intelligence, given his aloof attitude towards others. In truth, he was just very serious minded, although his all-work-no-play thinking tended make him quite competitive on occasion.

The blue and silver Autobot checked over his rifle’s energy level, choosing to ignore that his training partner had a point. “Those cannons take point-five cycles to charge, Hot Shot. I had time.” His sensors alerted him once more. “We’ve got incoming. Three fliers, two ground vehicles. You go ahead and deal with the ground-pounders, I’ll cover you.”

Opposite of Blurr, Hot Shot was quite eager and energetic once he got into things, even if much of his enthusiasm left a bit to desire for when he charged head-on into an assignment, to the chagrin of some of the higher ups. Despite his bright zeal, the yellow mech seemed to carry a hint of a shadow within him.

That shadow was hardly noticeable as the young Autobot laughed and transformed, racing ahead toward the incoming drones. His partner quietly watched him before kneeling down behind a low wall, checking the charges on his rifle and spare ammunition. As much as he appreciated the help, both had jobs to do… and he was much better at his own than his partner was. 

Much to their surprise, the fliers were the first to arrive. Hot Shot skidded to a halt and transformed, his arm-mounted guns firing bursts against them as he moved towards cover. While the fliers were occupied with him, Blurr took aim and fired, the first drone going down with a second one following shortly. Just as he was about to fire on the third, however, his partner shouted a warning. “Behind!” 

Surprised, Blurr turned to see one of the two ground units immediately behind him. Whether it had taken advantage of a sensor blind spot or simply been lucky didn’t matter, he simply aimed and fired. The drone went offline, but a laser pulse hit his shoulder, knocking him ‘out’ of the simulation. He turned, tracing the laser’s trajectory back to one of the fliers just as his partner knocked it out. Hot Shot’s victory was short-lived, however, as the remaining drone fired upon him from behind. 

_:End simulation.:_

The two young Autobots finally relaxed, the yellow one barely restraining his groans of self-irritation, as the maze of roads disappeared in a shower of holo-matter and hard-construct data. The drones powered back up, retreating to opened panels to be repaired in preparation for the next simulation. Their instructor entered the training room, the heavy footfalls of his purple and lime green legs echoing throughout, arms crossing as he stood before the pair. Scavenger might be an epitome of the “grizzled old warrior” and a very harsh instructor, being a veteran of countless battles, but it was only past several cycles of being under him that cadets learned he only wanted them to come out of any situation at least alive (limbs missing being highly optional). “Well, I’m certainly proud of you two. You’ve been slagged.” A sharp turn to one of the two. “Hot Shot, remind me, what were your orders for this simulation?”

“We were to stay within visual range of each other, eliminate the opposing targets, and watch each other’s backs while reaching the goal, sir,” Hot Shot droned, reciting from having that pounded (literally) into his cranial unit.

A nod of approval. “Correct. Now, did you complete these orders?” 

“No sir, we did not.” 

“Also correct.” His optics moved to the second of the duo. “Blurr. Clearly, you’ve been putting in time at the practice ranges – your accuracy over long distance has improved significantly. That’s a plus in your favor. However, you’re relying too heavily upon your long-range sensors and being neglectful of your surroundings, especially close range. Awareness of your surroundings is essential, both in and out of combat.” A look at the yellow and red mech. “Hot Shot. You obviously had no problem following your comrade’s suggestions or maintaining awareness – you noticed the stealth drone where Blurr hadn’t. However, while calling out to him helped Blurr, you should have kept your attention upon the aerial drones. As important as watching your teammate’s back is, you need to watch your own. Both of you need to work on that.” A stern smile from the veteran. “Fortunately, that’s why you’re under me. Take two cycles, then report back here – we’re going through this again until you can get it right. Dismissed!”

Both Autobots gave their instructor a salute and turned to exit. As they neared the hatch, however, Scavenger called, “Hot Shot – I’d like a few words with you.” 

Blurr paused for a moment, but quickly continued on his way. As curious as he was about why his fellow trainee was getting a private word with their superior, he had his orders. Besides, Hot Shot would no doubt discuss it with him shortly, unless told otherwise. 

The hatch closing shut behind the blue and grey sniper, his partner stood at attention. Scavenger finally stood before him. “At ease.” The young mech relaxed to parade rest. “Is there a problem, Hot Shot?”

“Sir?” 

“You seemed slightly distracted during the simulation. If this was field duty and you were fighting a Decepticon insurgent, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation.” At the young racer’s growing downcast expression, his commander added, “Of course, you’re obviously aware of that.”

“Sir, what happened then…” He ducked his head, as if embarrassed and ashamed. “I just want to make up for it, that’s all.”

A faint grimace, Scavenger immediately knowing what his student was talking about. “There’s nothing wrong with having regrets, Hot Shot. Just make sure that you aren’t beating yourself up over something you can’t change. What happened in that exercise with Wheeljack was a tragedy, but I’d doubt he’d want you to simply give up. One of the major reasons behind you still being in the Autobot forces is because you have potential, and no one wants to see that potential wasted. When you get back, I expect a better performance. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir. And thank you.”

A comforting smile from the old Autobot. “Don’t thank me yet – we’ve still got another practice session to go through. Dismissed.”

Hot Shot gave a quick salute before exiting, leaving behind a thoughtful Scavenger.

-

“Once you look at it long enough, history is filled with a lot of things that many would consider to be strange coincidences.” Diana gave each of her students a small glance as she walked through the classroom, making certain they were keeping their attention upon her or their notebooks as they scribbled away, hopefully taking class notes rather than doodling or making conversation notes. “One big example can be found with the Egyptian and Mayan civilizations. Egyptian civilization began around 3150 BC and lasted until 30 BC, when it was eventually conquered by the Roman Empire. The Mayans, meanwhile, started from between 2000 and 1800 BC and lasted until their final fringes were eventually conquered by the Spanish in AD 1697. Aside from eventually being conquered by outside invaders after millennia of independence, however, both had a great deal in common – highly developed systems of mathematics, writing systems which have only recently begun to be studied in depth, and, obviously, a number of carefully constructed monuments including pyramids. How two civilizations in opposite corners of the globe and separated by thousands of years managed to attain similar achievements is something people have wondered about for years.” She sat down upon her desk and looked among her charges, glad to see the majority of their attentive gazes facing her. “Any ideas?”

Out of the corner of one eye, Rad saw a hand nervously raised. 

“Carlos?” 

The young Hispanic boy brought his hand down. Carlos Lopez was his best friend since elementary school and although they often thought alike, there were times where Rad had to question some of his friend’s ideas. “Uhm… Aliens could’ve helped them.” That was one of them.

There was a great amount of snickering from many of his classmates, although several others exasperatedly facepalmed at the seemingly absurd suggestion, Rad one of them.

“That’s one possible explanation, albeit questionable by others.” The snickering died down as Diana continued; now sketching away on the chalkboard rough outlines of Egypt and Central America alongside their respective pyramids, dates and measurements accompanying the pictures. “None of us were around then, and there’s more than one hypothesis out there that suggests ancient civilizations had outside help from the stars. Other propositions have suggested common ancestry, that both the Egyptians and the Mayans were descended from the people of the mythical Atlantis. Aside from speculation, however, none of those hypotheses are accepted to become theories unless future evidence is interpreted otherwise. At the very least, we could simply have a case of parallel development, making it all one large coincidence throughout history. Thus the reason we learn about the past and try our best to add to the knowledge – to be able to distinguish the plausible from the implausible and see what can be fully confirmed.” Her piece of chalk rapped against the board as if to emphasize a point. “That’s why your homework assignment for this weekend will be outlines of chapter 4 over the Egyptians and chapter 9 over the Mayans, as well as a detailed comparison and contrast between the two, due first thing Tuesday.” The bell rang, and she snapped her book closed. “Class dismissed.”

As the numerous students filed out of the classroom, Rad moved to his locker and began to swap out his books while looking over at his friend in disbelief. “Aliens? Come on, Carlos, give them some credit.” 

“Hey, it could’ve happened.” Luck had it that Rad’s locker was next to his. “Not saying any of my ancestors actually met someone from another planet, but like Ms. Masters said, no way you can prove it.”

“Still, it’s a crazy idea.” The young boy finished sorting out his books before dropping to a low tone. “So, you still up for exploring the caves later?”

He raised an eyebrow, moving in closer as well lowering his voice. “Rad, you sure you want to do that? I mean, climbing around in a bunch of volcanoes doesn’t sound like fun to me.”

“They’re extinct volcanoes, non-active, especially Mount Saint Hilary. We don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Assuming you’re right about that.” Both boys turned to see a familiar shorthaired girl at a nearby locker, sorting through her own books before closing it and turning her attention back to them. Alexis Romanov could easily be considered a teacher’s pet, often pulling in extra credit and top grades like nobody’s business, as well considered quite the goody-two shoes, but for an unknown reason, she had also become friends with the boys since the beginning of middle school. Not that either minded – nagging she may be, but at least she helped keep them on receiving passing grades most of the time. “Besides, active or no, running around those things unsupervised is never a good idea.” 

Rad gave the girl a cheeky grin. “It’s not like you need to be worried, Alexis. We’re going prepared - flashlights, helmets, radio, the whole mess. Besides, you aren’t going to be there.”

“Oh no? Someone with half a brain has to make sure you two don’t get yourselves hurt.” She slung her backpack over one shoulder with a returning adventuresome smirk. “Namely, me.”

Both boys looked at her in surprise, Carlos finally voicing his disbelief. “You’re _loco_ , right?”

“Nope, and if you so much as think a girl can’t go running around in the dirt, you’re in for a rude awakening. Ms. Masters was trained in archaeology, and her sister’s a geologist – if they can get their hands dirty around mountains and stuff, I don’t see why I can’t. And if you protest too much, well…”

Rad threw up his arms in surrender, nearly hitting another student on the head. “Okay, you can come! But you’re gonna need a ride. I think I might be able to fit two people on my bike…”

“Then you two ride it – I can get a lift easily enough.” As she walked off, she finished, “I’m sure you boys’ll enjoy the trip together.”

Both Rad and Carlos shared bewildered looks. They knew their female friend could be sarcastic and had the occasional dry wit at times, but they were rarely on the receiving end of it. 

“You think she was serious, _hombre_?”

“Not likely.”

Despite their dismissive words, they exchanged another glance with each other before inching away from each other slightly, lest others had other ideas.

-

The high skyscrapers of Polyhex, no matter what time on Cybertron, served to cast long shadows down upon the city’s inhabitants. Most found this depressing – while the buildings themselves were majestic and ancient, older than most of the individuals walking the planet’s surface, the long shadows they cast only prompted more unease among those living in and among them than any awe at their size. Others, however, found comfort in the shadows… especially one small Seeker as he landed near the opening to one of the city’s underground tunnels. He transformed, looking about to make certain he hadn’t been seen as he was just about to enter. 

“I was wondering if you’d be coming back.” The Decepticon looked about sharply, only relaxing minutely when another Seeker of a different design stepped from the shadows. “Do you have anything to report, Thrust?”

“All reconnaissance reports go directly to Megatron, Starscream. You should be aware of that by now,” said green-and-gray mech barely retorted. Being a Seeker, Thrust should have been placed in the front lines but his stronger skills lay elsewhere. Namely, his main ability was being a tactician and strategist, depending on whether it was during battle of finding a way to move troops to a more secure location, or preplanning when, where, and whether teams should go before an attack.

The red and white jet held up a placating hand. For all his skills as a warrior in aerial and close-combat (namely the sword), Starscream had to constantly watch out for not just Thrust, but others who would try to take his position by force. Many had thought of his past background as a scientist would be a weakness, yet Starscream would more often than not prove why he was the Decepticons’ Aerial Commander and second-in-command. The medics often had to deal with fools that tried to mess with someone who already had an analytical mind for details and was deadly with a blade. “I’m aware of protocol. However, Megatron is currently in his rest cycle. As I am his direct second…” 

“One who only came to us after his brother was killed in battle. Many of us have served far longer – that’s something else you have trouble remembering.” The smaller Decepticon marched past his superior officer, pausing to only glance at him contemptuously before going in. “I’ll wait until his rest cycle ends.” 

Starscream’s gaze followed the tactician/strategist as he walked into the shadows, only narrowing his optics when Thrust couldn’t see him but was still within hearing. “Until he awakens, then.” 

-

“For tens of thousands of vorns, the populace of Cybertron has lived in constant fear of attack. All across the planet, Megatron’s forces remain at large, hidden away in the recesses of Cybertron.” Pounding a fist upon the conference table for emphasis, King Atlas looked about the various Autobot commanding officers with clear frustration, although as his face was usually set in a frown, often making his mood hard to tell. “We’ve let that Decepticon tyrant continue to fester for too long. I say we take him out, here and now!”

Optimus quirked an optic ridge, stylus on his datapad ticking off some of the meeting’s itinerary that had been taken care of earlier. “Atlas, you’ve raised this point in the past many times. Pounding the table isn’t going to get it implemented any faster, much less aid its acceptance by the Council.”

“Still, not make point any less valid.” A lean Autobot with grey and red armor suggesting a saurian alternate mode leaned forward to support the ivory stealth jet. Grimlock’s speech pattern would’ve made anyone else think of him as an idiot but those that had worked with him (with or without complaint) or heard of his reputation knew better than to underestimate the Dinobot leader. While he preferred brawn over processor most of the time, he did listen to reason when it became necessary – more often than not with grudging reluctance. “Fact that Megatron still active anything but good.”

“Hey, no one’s arguing that point.” A white, black and red Autobot at Optimus’ immediate right looked among those gathered. Although often known as the playful second-in-command, Jetfire also had duties on keeping an optic on the Autobots’ aerial forces alongside King Atlas, what few flight capable soldiers they had and especially those that were combat oriented. “I mean, no one here likes having Megatron still out there. Ever since the Second Great War, his faction’s been nothing but trouble for us and the Decepticons. The big trouble’s finding him and his troops – even when Intelligence gets a lead on their location, they tend to vacate pretty quick.”

Another Autobot at the table, his white and black armor indicating his emergency vehicle alt-mode, shook his head as he scrolled through his notes compiled from his team. While Checkpoint led the Autobots’ security forces, they were more of in the sense of bodyguards and police than an actual military force. “Doesn’t help that the few who are still with him are mostly devoted zealots or mechs too afraid of getting scrapped to even consider giving information on their allies.”

“Yes, although you aren’t exactly doing much to capture them, Checkpoint.” Atlas turned his derisive look from the Autobot Security Commander to the Intelligence Director, practically looming over the little yellow Autobot. “Then again, Intel’s always been poor about these things. I was hoping that would change with Jazz passing on the position, but clearly the new administration has been lacking…”

“Atlas.” The large white-and-blue mech at Optimus’ left turned golden optics at the flier, stopping him from speaking further. Directly beneath Jetfire in the chain of command, Ultra Magnus was one of the Autobots’ best strategists, as well as the overall commander of the militia’s ground forces and leader of the legendary Wreckers. While just as restrained as Optimus, he was also somewhat more inclined towards action and faster to act. “Putting down your subordinates in the chain of command is going to do little if any good. Besides, last I checked, Autobot Intelligence had some good news for us. Bumblebee?”

Grateful for the more level-headed commanding officer stepping in, the small Autobot gathered his datapads. The youngest of the assembled members of Optimus’ staff, Bumblebee was the sort of mech that few had trouble not liking, ready with a kind word and a hard worker. He knew he was going to take quite a bit from Atlas ever since Jazz left Intelligence, but he really wished the larger mech would do it elsewhere in private instead of in front of the other officers. Mirage would disapprovingly call it bad form, but he was Towers-raised. “Admittedly, it isn’t much, but we’ve got some success from Velocitron. Most of the Crashers were successfully captured near the Diablo Desert – a few managed to escape, but Fracture herself as well as seven of her subordinates were apprehended. They’re being moved to Nebulos as we speak for questioning.”

A snort from Atlas. “A small victory. We’ve been getting nothing but them since the Eclipse Team was brought in, and it’s done nothing to end the problem.”

Checkpoint revved his engine discreetly, immediately sensing a brewing shout-fest. “But it has limited Megatron’s effectiveness. It isn’t capturing him, but it’s the next best thing.”

“More like a slight case of scraplets compared to going offline. What captures we’ve made of his forces have been few and far between – we need to end this by striking at the heart of the problem. I propose we launch a full-scale attack, storm every street and building – that’ll take care of the problem!”

“Not to mention undermine Straxus’ own efforts to curb the rebellion and just give Megatron more fuel for his fires,” Jetfire almost sarcastically pointed out.

“Only if he’s still online to do it, Jetfire. If he’s taken offline, all our problems are solved!” Atlas retorted at the Autobot second-in-command hotly, practically leaping out of his chair.

The white shuttle’s optics flashed angrily at the mech’s stubbornness and as much as he wanted to fire back a scathing comment, discipline held him in check. “And we’re not only going to be undermining the authority of the rightfully-elected Decepticon government, but creating a martyr for the insurgency in the process!”

“Enough!” Optimus’ voice rang through the conference room, this time making Checkpoint and Bumblebee nearly jump out of their seats. “Atlas, while your suggestions aren’t without merit, I cannot allow for us to undermine the authority of a trusted ally. Until a better alternative comes available that doesn’t involve toppling a properly elected government, nor conflicts with the Council, we will maintain our current strategy. Is that understood?”

The others’ engines held still at the staring – more like glaring – contest between the Prime and stealth jet for several kliks (although Grimlock leaned forward a bit too eagerly for Magnus and Jetfire’s likes). Atlas finally relented with a curt nod but not without a faint look of distaste. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Checkpoint, how soon does Roadblock estimate it will take for him to finish work on reconstructing the roadways Fracture’s unit destroyed?”

Cool air cycled through his systems in relief, not realizing he had held his fans still. “Two or three mega-cycles, depending on availability of supplies.”

“And interrogating the captured Decepticons?”

Bumblebee quickly spoke up. “Fallback and Bluestreak are already on Nebulos, and assuming Checkpoint doesn’t mind Nightbeat still being under my command, we should be able to get some information out of them easily enough.” Said Autobot gestured in agreement, not minding that one of his subordinates was still with Intel.

“Keep me informed.” The Autobot leader rose from his seat, which prompted the others to do likewise. “Meeting adjourned.”

As the gathered Autobot leaders filed out, Grimlock approached his commander. “Me not in total agreement with Atlas, but think him have point. Megatron still out there, may have spies in Decepticon government.”

“You don’t think they have spies in his organization as well?” Optimus looked at his old friend with gentle optics. They might have their differences on how to deal with the rogues, but nobody could deny their duty to protect (even if it wasn’t as evident with Grimlock). “Have patience, old friend. His defeat will come one day.”

A grunt. “Hopefully sooner than later. 

-

“I still don’t get why you want to go exploring around here. I mean, it’s not like we’re gonna find anything.”

Rad gave his friend a grin as the pair set their bikes alongside a prominent outcropping. “Come on, this’ll be fun! Besides, you’re more likely to get hurt back at the skate park. Where’s that sense of excitement and adventure?”

“At home, with his photos of Bigfoot.” With a sigh, Carlos finally relented. “If you want to do this, fine. But if I die out here, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

A smirk as their third finally arrived on her bike. “Deal.” 

Giving one look over the terrain, Alexis gave the two a not quite-so withering glance. “You just can’t make it easy, can you?”

Rising up out of the landscape before them was Mount Saint Hilary, one of the more lesser-known parts of the Boring Lava Field. An extinct volcanic zone stretching over parts of both Oregon and Washington, its outskirts were just east of the downtown area of their home town, with this particular mountain being within an hour’s bike ride of the suburb the three lived in. Mount St. Hilary was one of the smaller mountains in the range, only around six hundred feet in height. Not a particularly prominent part of the field, but a reasonably safe place for a group of middle school kids to visit, albeit unattended and unsupervised. 

“Don’t bother, Alexis, I already read him the riot act.” As Rad grabbed his backpack full of gear, Carlos reflected sadly, “He’s dead serious about doing this.” 

The young girl looked up and took note of several bits of outcroppings along the mountainside. As little as she was worried about an eruption, a rockslide was still a possibility and she immediately adjusted her helmet. “Interesting choice of words.”

While Carlos and Alexis expressed their concerns, the most adventuresome of the trio was already on his way along a path. “Hey you two, you coming or not?”

A groan. “Like we have a choice.” Alexis hitched up her bike and swiftly retrieved her bag, following Carlos as he caught up with Rad. 

The next couple minutes passed in silence, none of the three students making much noise, before tremors went through the ground. Immediately, they crouched low to the ground for better stability. 

“I thought you said this volcano was extinct, man!”

“It is!” Reflecting on his sources, Rad admitted, “At least, Wikipedia said it was!”

Before Carlos could give further protest, Alexis chimed in for him. “Great! This is what we get for not checking our sources! Proper ones at that! You should’ve stuck with the US Geological Survey’s site!”

As the shaking continued, chunks of rock began to break away beneath them, revealing an opening within the rock wall. As they stopped, a pair of interested blue eyes noticed it. “Hey…what do you suppose that is?”

“It’s a cave, probably caused by lava flowing around a large fallen tree or dead animals before solidifying. Either that or it’s the end of a lava tube.” Both boys looking at her, she dryly added, “Believe it or not, there are things on the Discovery Channel worth watching besides Mythbusters.”

“And that opening came up because of…?” At the girl’s shrug, Carlos sighed. “Great, no clue from our resident genius. I don’t know about the two of you, but I say we leave before another earthquake starts up.” 

“And miss out on being the first to explore a new cave? No way!” Pulling a flashlight from his bag, Rad stood up and scrambled in. “C’mon guys, this is great!” 

Both Carlos and Alexis reluctantly followed, their flashlights helping to illuminate the cave they found themselves in. It wasn’t particularly large; barely enough for them to stretch their arms up above their heads and touch the ceiling or the opposite walls, but it was comfortable enough for them to move around easily. As they continued, flashlights keeping them aware of their surroundings within the cave, the three teens remained cautious – while there wasn’t much chance of another earthquake, there was still the possibility of an aftershock (rare they may be), and none of the three liked the idea of being stuck in their newly-discovered cave. 

As her flashlight’s beam went over a nearby wall, a glint caught Alexis’ eye. “Hey guys, look at this!” Both did as told, mindful of any other loose rocks. “Right where my beam ends. Do you see that?” 

At the end of the light was an exposed bit of something metallic, grayish-blue in color. “Some kind of crystal?” Rad suggested.

“I don’t think so.” She moved closer and carefully put her hand to the reflective surface. Amazed at its smoothness, she let her fingers run over it, her eyes widening in realization. “This isn’t rock. It’s some kind of metal.”

“Metal?” Carlos leaned towards it, his curiosity growing. “You mean it could be some kinda UFO?”

An almost dismissive snort. “Yeah, a UFO trapped for anywhere from three hundred thousand to almost three million years in volcanic rock. That’s likely.” Continuing to move her hand against it, she knelt down to dig a little, exposing more of the metal. “Though that would make sense – no way could natural metal ore be this smooth on its own. Wait a sec… I think there’s a seam here.” Twisting off her flashlight’s nozzle and turning it into a lantern, she dug into her backpack and pulled out a crowbar. 

“How’d you get that in there?”

A smirk towards Rad. “They don’t just teach us how to sell cookies in the Girl Scouts.” She placed one edge of the crowbar within the seam, and then began to push against it. After a couple struggling attempts, she raised an eyebrow. “Mind giving me a hand?” Rad and Carlos looked to each other and shrugged before joining in, grabbing hold of the crowbar’s opposite end. “On three – one, two, three!”

The three preteens pushed hard on the crowbar with all their might, and finally the seam gave, widening to form a doorway large enough for them to enter. The three stood amazed, the crowbar still tightly held in their grip, as they peered into the metal structure.

“Okay Carlos, for once, you could be right. It might just be a UFO.” 

“Me and my wild ideas,” the Hispanic boy groused in response to Alexis’ admission. “So what now?” 

“We go inside.” Rad retrieved his bag and flashlight, excitement overcoming his awe and already climbing. “If all that stuff about Roswell is true, then we’d be better off taking a look while we can.”

“If.” First snagging her bag and then her flashlight, Alexis kept a tight grip on the crowbar. “Just in case.”

The three teens looked at each other before Carlos gave an audible gulp and Rad led them inside. As he entered, however, the small structure they were in suddenly became illuminated, strong artificial lights blinking into existence from the ceiling above them and partially blinding them.

“Must be automatic.” Alexis entered next, her hands still firmly on her weapon, but took a second to reach back and grab the collar of Carlos’s jacket. “C’mon.”

“I’m coming,” came the edgy protest, scrubbing his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting.

The three looked around the “room”. It was large, about the size of a small dining room in a modern home with the ceiling about ten feet and the floor stretching about ten feet from the center. It was circular, a few computer displays near the hatch and a group of six large metal pod-like devices in the center against a support column. 

“Well, this isn’t so bad.” A bit more relieved, Alexis finally set the crowbar down and moved towards the center column and what looked like pods around it. “No way was this made by human hand – just look at the writing. It doesn’t look anything like English. We’d better not–”

A high-pitched alarm rang out, forcing all three to cover their ears. Alexis looked over as Rad quickly pressed a button, the alarm shutting off seconds later. The boy gave a weak laugh. “Oops. Sorry.”

An exasperated sound from her. “Nice thinking, Rad. ‘Oh look, it’s a shiny red button, let’s press it and see what it does.’ We’re lucky we’re still here talking to each other.” 

“Hey, I said I was…!” Another klaxon went off as Rad began his protest, deeper in pitch and not as hard on the ears as the other one. “That wasn’t me.”

Both looked to Carlos, who threw up his arms in a warding gesture. “Hey, don’t look at me! I don’t have a death wish!”

A small portion of the console extended upwards, an orange and purple robotic-looking object rising from it. The small thing, shaped somewhat like a digital camcorder, shifted in shape, a head, legs and wing-like protrusions emerging from it and reminding the three of a small bird. 

As the small avian-like robot tested its joints and looked about with what reminded them of a camera’s lens, its head bobbing up and down, Rad gave the question on the trio’s minds. “What is that?” 

“Some kind of robot.” Just as Alexis spoke those words, the robot bird activated what sounded like jets, leapt from the console and flew out of the pod into the tunnel they had come in from. 

-

Several quick beeps roused the attention of a Decepticon soldier as he began to drift off, prompting him to return his full attention the computer screen before him. Boredom from hiding and no action had become so unsatisfying that Cyclonus hoped none of the higher ups minded him taking a quick stasis-nap until the console quickly interrupted that idea. Just as he began to check over the signal, it stopped. “Okay, that was weird.”

“Something come up on the communications system, Cyclonus?”

Almost jumping out of his seat, he turned to his questioner. “Just for a couple nano-kliks, Starscream. It was an old Quintesson signal, extremely powerful. Strange thing is, it wasn’t coming from any of their old territories – it was coming from that next solar system over.”

“Which system, specifically?” a commanding voice thundered. 

Both stood at attention as the voice’s source entered the communications room, booming footfalls in his wake. 

“It’s a little over a parsec away, Lord Megatron. You want me to replay it?” A dark look from his leader that seemed to ask if the helo thought of him as a complete fool gave Cyclonus his answer. “Ah, ‘kay… Getting right on that.” 

Cuing up the necessary program, Cyclonus replayed the transmission. A quick burst of information, displayed onscreen via a rapidly-shifting series of bars and lines, flashed before them before the playback ended. Starscream brightened a bit when he noticed some of the numbers after freezing the playback. 

“We’ve been picking up signals from that system for the last fifty meta-cycles.” The Seeker not-so-gently nudged the helo aside, going through the transmissions they had received in the past and pulling up comparisons. “The resemblance to a Quintesson frequency is no doubt a coincidence.”

Megatron considered the transmission thoughtfully. After so many vorns, anything was possible… “Perhaps, but it is always wisest to verify.” He reached over and made a few keystrokes of his own. “Computer, open communications channel three-dash-twenty-two-dash-two-thousand.”

A few short kliks later, a voice answered back. _:“Lord Megatron. You wish to speak with me concerning that unusual transmission, yes?”:_

“Correct, Obsidian. Can you verify its origins?”

_:“I can do better, my lord – I can identify its source. That specific frequency was used for the escape pods loaded onto the_ Exodus _.”:_

Starscream looked up sharply from the monitor, optics widening but not just in surprise. “It can’t be.”

“But it can…and most likely is.” A smile on his face, the tyrant returned to the comm.-channel. “Obsidian, make certain that information concerning this transmission is kept limited.” Cutting the line off, he turned to his lieutenant. “Select a small unit and muster our forces. We cannot waste this opportunity, no.”

Before the red-and-white Seeker could protest, Thrust entered and announced, “Lord Megatron, sir, I have news for you. Straxus has become lax in his security arrangements – the primary spaceport near the Hydrax Plateau has little if any sentries in place, and they’ve finished construction of one of the new Scimitar-class cruisers.”

“A fortuitous bit of news.” If Megatron’s smile could be even more sinister, it would certainly send shivers down the lower ranks’ spinal relays. “Thrust, I want all the information you have concerning the spaceport and its security detail. We have been given a rare opportunity – they’ve resurfaced at last, and this time, nothing shall stop me from regaining them.” 

-

As soon as he received the call, Smokescreen nearly left skid marks on the floor in his haste by the time he got to the communications room. “You sure you’ve got the right signal, Scattorshot?!”

“Somethin’ this important and you’re askin’ me that question?!” The small blue Autobot was frantically going over his keyboard, the screens before him showing a positive match for the signal. “No way was that anything else – that was the _Exodus_! So either someone’s pullin’ off the biggest prank since those fossils were found in Gygax, or they’ve gone and woken up!”

Barely hiding his shock, Smokescreen turned to the other tech on duty. “Sideswipe, I want verification on this.”

“Working on it.” The young Autobot checked over the signal from scratch, his checks giving the same information as that of his co-worker. “It matches the records exactly.” Sideswipe looked at Smokescreen curiously. “Sorry to ask, boss, but what’s the _Exodus_?”

“It’s a long story – way before your time. Remind me to tell you about it later.” Keying in his own communicator, the Autobot operations officer had hoped that this day would never happen, but there’s no point breaking down over spilled high-grade. “Prime, Jetfire, we’ve just picked up a distress beacon. Frequency matches what’s in our records, and I hate to say it but… it’s the _Exodus_.”

-

Interrupted just as he and Jetfire began to enter his office, the Autobot leader exchanged a brief glance with his second-in-command before answering his comm.-link. “Have you verified?”

_:“Checked and double-checked, boss-bot. It’s them.”:_

A myriad of emotions flickered through Jetfire’s optics. “Knew it was only a matter of time. Think anyone else has picked up on it?”  


“As powerful as the transmitters were on that ship, I’m not taking any chances.” Returning to the communicator, Optimus ordered, “Smokescreen, contact Red Alert and Scavenger, and report with them to my office immediately. I also want a ship prepped and ready to depart as soon as possible – time’s of the essence, and we don’t have a nano-klik to spare.”

_:“Gotcha!”:_

-

Carlos peered out of the room, the small drone just leaving his view as it exited the cave. “What do you think all that was about?”

“Maybe that robot thing was some kind of UAV.” At his friends’ surprised expressions, Rad shrugged. “You know, like the unmanned Predators the military uses.”

“Maybe.” Alexis began to pack away her things, making sure to leave the crowbar out. She knew there was little chance of them doing any actual form of injury, but any few seconds gained from surprising whatever possible attackers was better than nothing. “Whatever it is, I don’t think we should be here when it comes back. Let’s just take a quick look around, make sure there aren’t any more surprises, and leave. And whatever you do, don’t…”

“…Touch anything, I remember.”

His own curiosity greater than before, Carlos returned his attention to the internals of the pod, trying his hardest to follow his schoolmate’s suggestions. “Aliens or not, whoever made this thing made it to last. It doesn’t look like it was built, though. It’s more like it was poured.”

“What, like die-cast construction?” A puzzled look as Alexis got to her feet. She had read about it during one time during research for a project, having wandered off-tangent when she had found some free time in the library. “If it is, than it’s a lost art. No one makes stuff that way anymore.”

The small drone soon returned, swooping past the kids and over to the console before hooking itself back into its slot. The trio looked from the small robot to the screen above it, fragments of unrecognizable alien text and wire-frame scans of several objects flashing onto it at speeds that they knew would have anyone in the computer industry literally green with envy.

“Guess I was right about it being some kind of UAV.” Rad’s eyes blinked as he recognized some of the scans. “Look, it scanned our stuff, and more!”

The wire-frame scans quickly took on the shapes of recognizable objects – the boys recognized designs similar to their bikes as well as a skateboard, a moped, a sports car, a helicopter, and finally a dune buggy. Carlos whistled in appreciation. “Space ships made from poured metal, tiny UAVs that could probably make the military jealous… This stuff’s really advanced. But why scan all that stuff? That’s low-tech!”

Several chirps sounded out behind them, prompting Alexis to turn from the screen towards the center column. “Uh, guys? One of the pods is up to something!”

The boys turned to the pods as one of the six began to come online, several status displays at its side shifting and flashing with increasing frequency. After a few short seconds, the display became static, and a hatch hissed open, a door rising upwards towards the ceiling. Within the pod lay a thin, deep blue robot slightly shorter than themselves, its limbs colored light silver-blue and white on its face, parts resembling a bicycle hanging from its form.

“What is it?” Carlos whispered, as if afraid to attract the wrong sort of attention.

Curiosity greater than fear, Alexis stepped forward as the unconscious being began to stir. “It’s some kinda robot, obviously.”

As if in response to her words, a pair of bright white lights flashed on roughly where a human’s eyes would be, the robot glanced over to the trio and spoke in a clearly feminine voice. “‘It’ has a name, thank you.”

As the robot gingerly stepped out from the pod, Rad fought the urge to gape openly. The inner six-year old that he hadn’t quite let go of yet even though he should be a bit more mature since he was in middle school, on the other hand, was running around in circles and yelling _‘ALIEN ROBOT TALKED!’_ at the top of his lungs. “Yeah, sorry. We didn’t know, uh…”

“High Wire.” Joints, from elbows to fingers, flexed several times, as if trying to get the kinks out after being stiff for so long. “Given these circumstances, however, I can understand your ignorance. And who are the three of you?”

“Well, I’m Rad. This is Carlos and Alexis.” As the feminine robot looked at them, he fidgeted nervously. “Something wrong?”

A sudden glance at the boy before she shook her head to clear up more of the lingering diagnostics banners flitting across her vision. “My apologies. I simply wasn’t expecting to encounter organic life on this world – at least, none as developed as you three. Clearly, there have been some changes since I was last online.”

Turning back to the contraption, Alexis gently touched it. “So this pod is some kind of sleep chamber?”

“The correct term is ‘stasis pod’, but yes, Alexis, that’s an adequate analogy.” Looking past the trio, she immediately noticed the active console monitor and rushed to it. “Oh no.” A few keystrokes reduced the windows that featured the remaining vehicles, a series of text remaining in prominence that was quickly read. Just as fast she turned to the three, and while she lacked an actual face, panic was certainly evident where her “eyes” were. “Who touched this console?”

Alexis jerked a thumb towards Rad. “That would be Einstein here.”

“Hey, whatever I did, I’m sorry!” Worry grew on his face, replacing the annoyance at being pointed as the culprit for the nth time. “I didn’t set this thing to blow up, did I?”

The robot shook it– her head as she gave a more thorough check over the data. The signal had been sent and there was little to no chance of finding a new hiding place on another planet in time. “No – this craft is an escape pod, and there’s little sense in including a self-destruct system in something like that. All you did was activate the ship’s distress beacon. It clearly wasn’t online very long, less than five Earth seconds or so, but it was more than enough.”

“But you said this is an escape pod – aren’t those supposed to have distress beacons?” Carlos pointed out, confused at High Wire’s distressed concern.

“Yes, but the problem isn’t the fact that it was activated – the problem was who could have picked up on it. We left our home in the hopes that we wouldn’t be found…especially by _him_.” At the curious looks of the children, she reflected for a moment. “The three of you are involved now whether I like it or not, so I suppose giving you all the details is wiser than doing nothing. Please, get comfortable, and try not to touch anything else.” As the kids sat down or leaned against whatever bare wall they could, High Wire leaned back and tilted her head as if pondering where to begin. “I and the others like me in the other stasis pods are called Mini-Cons. We are representatives of one of three factions of mechanical lifeforms native to a planet called Cybertron, orbiting the star your people know as… Alpha Centauri, provided the star maps are correct. We and the other two factions, called Autobots and Decepticons, were created were created more than 108,434 vorns ago – about nine million Earth years, if my calculations aren’t entirely too off – by a race called the Quintessons for use as a mechanized labor and defense force. During that time, we were little more than slaves, brutally treated and easily disposed of if one of us suffered even the slightest damage.”

“You sound as if you were there,” Alexis said. Somehow, she was reminded of images of the Nazi concentration camps and to a slightly lesser extent, the US interment camps.

The Mini-Con gazed at the female student sadly, one hand running along an arm as if reliving the memories. “I was. And at the time, none of us were able to react or protest – we were little more than empty machines, no more sapient than a door or a bolt. Eventually, that changed – Autobot, Decepticon and Mini-Con alike began to come alive and gain knowledge and sentience. The Quintessons were furious, unable to recognize that their creations had come to life, with self-will as well identity, and thus, we rebelled.” After a moment of debating, High Wire reached up and typed on the keyboard, displaying footage of what Rad correctly guessed had to be her people’s history, that of larger robots towering over the Mini-Cons. “The Autobots, formerly heavy labor units, became the leaders and planners of our revolution; the defenders, the Decepticons, became the front-line soldiers; we Mini-Cons, specializing in small details, worked alongside both factions throughout the war. While the Quintessons were advanced, we were clever and inventive, eventually creating technologies which allowed us some small edges in the conflict. Namely two things: Powerlinx technology, which allowed for a Mini-Con to combine with a larger Cybertronian to increase their abilities and firepower; and transformation, which allowed for all of us to easily change from one form to another to increase speed, armor, or maneuverability.”

“So, you guys won, right?”

The femme nodded in response to Carlos’ query. “Yes, eventually. The Quintessons were ultimately expelled from Cybertron, and we had our freedom, but only after 36,145 vorns – roughly three million of your years – and untold thousands dead.” A dreamy, almost wistful look went over her optics. “I can still remember seeing celebrations all over the planet – in Iacon, Kaon, every corner of our world, there were parades in the streets and cheers from those who survived. We were free at last to make our own stand, and strike our own destinies.” Wistfulness was replaced by dimmed optics. “It only lasted so long.”

Alexis was already beginning to guess where this was going. “You began to fight among yourselves, didn’t you?”

“Not immediately, no, but there were often disagreements in the early days.” One hand idly lingering along the console, she continued, “Still, peace reigned on Cybertron until around four million years ago, when the Outsider Wars began. Several races, some backed by the Quintessons and some on their own, attacked Cybertron and forced us into defending ourselves. They were driven off each time, but their constant attacks led to a prominent Decepticon general named Megatron to begin pushing for expanding Cybertronian territory, creating a buffer zone around our homeworld in order to defend it from outside aggression. When his calls went unanswered, he decided to launch an insurrection and take over the planetary government, his first actions being to… enlist as many Mini-Cons as he could.” All three middle school students winced at the tone High Wire used on the word “enlist”. “Some joined him willingly, eager for a taste of power, whereas the rest of us were forced into his ranks. Many who resisted were destroyed, their lives extinguished as an example to others. He was ultimately stopped, but only after the leader of the Decepticon faction, Jhiaxus, was killed. However, he and many of his followers continued to escape justice, despite the best efforts of Autobot and Decepticon alike. Rather than risk falling under his control once more, we Mini-Cons chose to voluntarily exile ourselves from our world. We refurbished one of the remaining Quintesson ships, modified it to carry all the Mini-Cons left following the Second Great War to a random location selected by the onboard computers from the space maps. We had launched successfully, the Autobots and remaining Decepticons preventing Megatron from stopping our departure, and managed to make a TransWarp jump to our destination.” Air gushed from her vents, almost similar to a sigh-like gesture. “Unfortunately, things didn’t go totally according to plan.”

“What happened? Did this ‘Megatron’ guy attack the ship, or what?” Carlos asked carefully.

“I do not know. All I know for certain is that something went wrong aboard the ship, and it was forced out of TransWarp space near your world. Those of us aboard climbed into the escape pods and went into stasis, save a skeleton crew. Presumably, the ship itself is somewhere here on Earth, the individual pods scattered across its surface as well as that of its natural satellite.”

“But we don’t have…” The blonde trailed off when he realized what the Mini-Con meant. “Oh, right. The moon.”

“Precisely. The signal sent out was on the default frequency – any properly-adjusted communications band would be able to pick it up without difficulty. Odds are that most of Cybertron has picked up on that frequency, Megatron included.” High Wire turned back to the monitor uneasily. “Which means he’s on his way here as we speak. We’re right back where we started.”

“Whoa, hold on!” Rad rose to his feet and protested, “You can’t give up yet! I don’t care how quick that transmission traveled, it’s not like he can just zap himself here on five seconds’ notice!”

“He can’t, but once he arrives, he’ll notice our energy signatures almost immediately.” The Mini-Con gestured around them. “Even in this terrain, despite the volcanic rock over our heads.”

“So, leave! Get the other Mini-Cons out of those stasis pods and make for the city!” Rad insisted, pointing out the hole he and his classmates had made as if to emphasize his point.

“Wait a second – what makes you think they’d have any better chances there?”

The Mini-Con’s optics brightened before Alexis could continue, as if considering the idea. “Actually, that idea might just work. Given the current state of technological development on this planet, there may be just enough electromagnetic interference to prevent Decepticon sensors from locking on fully. Granted, that assumes few advances in sensor technology since our departure, but we don’t have much time to try any other ideas.” She looked at each in turn. “Now, if you three would mind lending a servo…er, hand? I can revive the others on my own, but it should go much faster with your help.”

-

The door to Optimus’ office slid open, Scavenger leading his two recruits in. They saluted as the door slid shut behind them. “Optimus. Reporting as ordered.”

“At ease.” The three relaxed as the Autobot commander rose from his chair. “Hot Shot, Blurr, welcome. I assume you’re both familiar with everyone here?”

The two quickly looked over those gathered – aside from themselves, their instructor, and the Autobot leader himself, Jetfire, Smokescreen, and the Autobot medic Red Alert were present. “Yes sir.”

A chuckle from the Autobot second-in-command. “You can relax, kids, this isn’t a review, just a briefing. Now, either of you know about the Mini-Cons?”

Hot Shot spoke first. “They’re the third faction, sir. They left Cybertron thousands of vorns ago, after the Second Great War.” He looked to his commander. Word through the many gossip networks had spread like fire, especially among the communications recruits. “That signal that just went over the planet… Was that them?”

“That’s what we believe, yes.” A holographic projection emerged from Optimus’ desk as the medic among them picked up the briefing. “We’ve managed to trace its origin to the third planet in a nearby solar system.”

“Earth.” Optics turned to Blurr, who was studying the projection. “I’ve kept watch on reports concerning that system. That’s the name the indigenous lifeforms have for it from what we’ve gathered.”

“And considering all the transmissions they’ve been putting out for the last fifty-some meta-cycles, we’re lucky we were able to pick anything informative up.” The bulky orange Autobot nodded his head to his commander. “So, when are we heading out?”

“A ship’s already being prepped for launch.” The hologram shut down, and Optimus looked over his subordinates. “The _Ark_ , one of the old Vanguard-class interceptors. It’s not much compared to the Valiant-class ships or _Hyperion_ , but it’ll get us to Earth quickly and keep us from being picked up by any of the local sensor arrays. Besides, she can fly easily enough with just a crew of six.”

“Seems a sound plan.” The blue and grey sniper glanced over to Jetfire, tilting his head politely. “When do we depart?”

Jetfire shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, kid, but there’s no ‘we’ here.” Before Hot Shot or Blurr could protest, he held up a hand. “I’m staying behind – Optimus is in command of this mission.”

Hot Shot looked from one commander to another in surprise. “Sir, no offense…but are you sure you want me for this mission? I mean, I don’t exactly have a spotless record.”

“No, but you’re one of the most promising young recruits we have. And while Atlas may have been quick to try and court-martial you, I happen to believe that every mech deserves a second chance.” The Prime’s voice brooked no argument. “You’re on this mission. Both of you. Understood?”

Both younger Autobots exchanged looks with each other before turning back to their commander. “Yes sir!”

“Good.” The Autobot leader moved to his office door, the others following in his wake. “The _Ark_ is currently docked at the Aegis shipyards. We’ll orbital bounce there shortly, and then…”

Before Optimus could continue, an alarm klaxon rang out throughout the building. _:“Optimus, we’ve gotten word from Decepticon High Command in Kaon – the spaceports at the Hydrax Plateau are under attack.”:_ A timid note was clear in Sideswipe’s voice as he reported in. _:“Megatron is leading the charge, Prime.”:_

The two recruits looked at one another uneasily, and Jetfire barely contained a curse. Red Alert looked at his commander and dryly noted, “As unpleasant as this news is, it’s far from surprising.”

More weight seemed to settle onto the Autobot leader, although Scavenger knew Prime was very good at not showing it. “I know.” He returned his attention to the comm.-channel. “Sideswipe, contact Lord Straxus and tell him to have his forces hold them as long as possible. Send any field units in the area to provide support, and have the rest put on alert.”

_:“On it.”:_

The transmission cut off, and Optimus looked among the Autobots gathered around him. “You heard him mechs – time isn’t on our side. We need to get moving, lest Megatron pick up where he left off. And I don’t want that happening again. Roll out!”

-

Missiles flew throughout the shipyards as meager security forces, Autobot and Decepticon alike, fought to keep Megatron’s forces at bay. However, they were quickly overwhelmed as a trio of Seekers, Starscream at the lead, swooped in from above, blasting several off their feet and knocking them offline.

“Skywarp, Thundercracker, occupy the main forces – Thrust’s team will keep the secondary guard busy!” Transforming to robot mode and swinging his sword, Starscream knocked away several guards before heading towards his objective. “Keep them occupied so that we may claim the true prize! Decepticons, attack!”

Situated just on the edge of the shipyards was a recently-finished vessel, a large purple ship resembling a massive dagger, only distinguished from the towers elsewhere on Cybertron by the electromagnetic launching platform upon which it rested, the legend “ _Nemesis_ ” written upon it in Cybertronix. Plugging into the platform via an electronic jack, the Seeker set to work. “Shockblast, this is Starscream – I’m logged in. Ready to receive access codes.”

While the red-and-white Decepticon worked, his allies continued the distraction, Cyclonus hovering over the area and cackling madly as he continued firing upon his opponents. A few stray shots caused one of his fellow Decepticons to skid to one side, nearly scraping against a barricade. He transformed and shook a fist angrily at his comrade, easily catching sight of him thanks to the targeting reticule on his left optic. “Watch where you’re shooting!”

“Calm yourself and focus on the mission, Demolishor!” Thrust landed beside the tank, providing cover with the weapons batteries in his arms. “Cyclonus is doing his job – his zeal can easily be forgiven! Now keep firing!”

The heavy Decepticon only gave his superior a non-committed grunt, but did as he was ordered.

At another end of the field, a massive tank equipped with a fusion cannon thundered onto the scene, firing several powerful bursts and blowing away automated weapons turrets. As he transformed, Megatron smiled to himself. “Ah, the joys of combat. Granted this is only a small sampling before we set out to collect our Mini-Cons, but we’ll need the practice for when we return victorious.”

A hatch opened in the side of the _Nemesis_ ’ hull, prompting Starscream to dash in. “Lord Megatron, the countdown is set! We’re lifting off in fifty nano-kliks!”

“Acknowledged! Demolishor, Cyclonus, Thrust, to the ship! All other units, keep our hosts entertained and withdraw once the ship is launched!” As he followed his troops into the hatch, he noted to himself, “I think I’ll rather enjoy this little vacation.”

Just as Megatron stepped into the ship, the hatch hissed shut behind him, and the vessels engines started to roar to life. Pylons extended around the vessel, bright white lights along their edges flashing on as they powered up the magnetic charge that would launch the vessel from its platform. Finally, a burst of light, and the ship was pushed from its berth. It rose high above the ground before the engines kicked in, finally blasting the ship into Cybertron’s upper atmosphere. As it neared the boundaries of space, a number of automated defense satellites turned towards the vessel, their weapons locking on. Before any of them could fire, space itself began to rip and distort around them. As the giant vessel entered TransWarp, the satellites exploded, the debris following it to its destination.

-

As his systems began to reboot themselves, optics slowly coming back online after he didn’t know how long, a familiar form began to come into focus after the protective shutters opened. “Sparkplug? How are you feeling?”

The Mini-Con flexed his fingers, trying to get back used to receiving diagnostics from them. “A little stiff, but I’ll be alright. How long have we been out?”

Had she a mouth, the Mini-Con bicycle would have been smiling wryly. “Very long.”

As Sparkplug shakily stepped from his pod with a bit of help from High Wire, the three kids were busy speaking with the other revived Mini-Cons. Looking from the console to one of the small Cybertronians, Carlos finally asked, “Okay, I get the whole ‘stasis’ thing, but how’d you guys pick up English?”

One of the Mini-Cons, blue, black and yellow with wing-like protrusions from his shoulders, chuckled and pointed to where the bird-like robot now sat in its more compact form. “That little bird drone? We call them Laserbeaks – in addition to scanning our alternate modes, they’re designed to scan any local telecommunications networks and download necessary information about the local environment. Pretty cool, huh?”

Another of the Mini-Cons, orange and with parts suggesting a moped, crossed her arms. “I don’t see what the temperature has to do with the technology, Grindor.”

“It’s an expression, Sureshock.” A roll of the optics. “Lighten up, femme. You could use a sense of humor.”

“With Megatron on his way, we don’t exactly have time for jokes.” One of the Mini-Cons, his alt-mode parts suggesting a dune buggy, trooped to the pod entrance. “You kids mind leading us out? The faster we get moving, the better, and you don’t want to get left in the dust.”

“We’re coming, Rollbar.” Checking to make sure he wasn’t leaving anything behind, Rad leaned over to the last of the six. “So, Jolt, ‘femmes’ are girls, right?”

The red helicopter nodded. “Female Cybertronians, yes, and male ones are called ‘mechs’.”

Glancing over the various robots, Alexis couldn’t help but make a very puzzled face. “How do you tell the difference?”

“Other than by voice, you figure it out eventually.” Satisfied that his systems were running fine, Sparkplug offered a hand. “Rad, right? High Wire tells me we have you to thank for us being in a hurry.”

The boy laughed weakly, but accepted the offered hand. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

The Mini-Con smiled, although there was a hint of resignation. “Don’t be. Odds are, someone would’ve found us before too long, and better you three than anyone else.” He beckoned to the hatch. “Now, it’s your planet – lead the way.”

Their gear retrieved and the Mini-Cons following, the three kids quickly led them out of the lava tube. As they emerged from the tunnel, the Mini-Cons partially closed their optic shutters, unused to such bright sunlight after millennia of stasis. Filters adjusted on the level of brightness, and they began to look over the terrain that might become their new home.

“Well, I’ll be defragged and reformatted into an Energon dispenser – look at all this vegetation!” His sights sweeping over the area, Rollbar gave a jubilant laugh. “I think I’m gonna like this planet.”

“We’ve got a long time to get used to it.” As they began to make their way back down the mountain, the yellow Mini-Con among them kept his vision moving. “Everyone, stick close and keep on your guard. No telling what might…”

A loud crack went through the air, a rush of wind blowing hard against the kids and Mini-Cons that forced them into crouching to avoid being toppled over. Carlos frantically looked around him, arms covering his head. “That ain’t no tremor! What was that?!”

Her optics locked forward and wide with terror, High Wire pointed ahead and above. “Not what – who!”

The others followed her outstretched hand and looked up. While the Mini-Cons immediately recognized the massive form before them, the kids didn’t have to recognize him to know they were in trouble. He towered above them, green, grey and purple body supported by wide feed large enough to crush a car (and already crushing the trio’s bikes), a grim and dour expression upon his face, and twin purple and grey antler-like protrusions emerging from his head. In other circumstances the color combination might have been comical, but as he condescendingly gazed down upon him, a cruel smile growing upon his face, the middle school students saw little reason to laugh. Standing before them in all his glory was the reason why the Mini-Cons were on Earth in the first place – Megatron.

“How nice of you to come to me – I see the many vorns haven’t clouded your memory banks.” His optics fixed on the humans, he barked, “Fleshlings, you’ve found something of mine. You have my thanks – depart, and you may live to see the end of this orbital cycle. Remain, and…” His heel dug into the ground, further grinding the kids’ bikes beneath it. “Well, you comprehend my meaning.” The six Mini-Cons tensed up, ready to try and defend themselves and doing their best to protect the three children among them, prompting a laugh from the Decepticon warlord and the deployment of his fusion cannon. “How touching…if futile. Very well, it seems we’ll be doing this the hard way.”

If those documentaries they were made to watch during life science classes that showed prey animal freezing in the presence of predators were true, the teens were certainly experiencing it; Carlos was already muttering prayers in Spanish as his voice gradually pitched higher in fright. Adrenaline and logic was forcing them to choose “flight” but fear had them rooted in place. Mere seconds before the cannon could fire, a new voice rang out over the area.

_“Stand down, Megatron!”_

Mini-Con, Decepticon, and human alike were surprised as twin blasts struck the warlord in the chest, causing him to stumble back and fire the fusion cannon skyward harmlessly. A deep growl and Megatron leveled his sights upon the newcomer as he started to recover. “Prime!”

Standing nearby, the Mini-Cons visibly relieved at the sight of him, stood another towering mech, a bit shorter and less bulky than the Decepticon but visibly armed with a pair of firearms, one being a double-barreled pistol and the other a long black cannon with a bit of steam rising from the barrel. “Kids, Mini-Cons, run!”

Wasting no time, Rollbar and Jolt fled, speeding away from the battle as quickly as possible and soon disappearing into the forest in their alt-modes in separate directions. Exchanging a quick comm. burst between themselves, the Street Action Team immediately transformed, though not into their respective alternate modes. Instead, they combined: Sureshock forming legs and Grindor becoming arms and a torso while High Wire formed a head and wing-like armor over the combined robot’s back. The combined form quickly picked up the surprised humans – tossing a startled Alexis to hang on by its neck while both flabbergasted boys were tucked under each arm – and sped away, skating along the ground at top speed.

As his comrade and new friends left for safety, Sparkplug at last sped towards his old partner, ignoring the dings soon forming on his undercarriage. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t be far behind, Prime! It’s good to see you again!”

Beneath his faceplate, Optimus smiled but didn’t move his gaze from the Decepticon warlord. “Likewise, old friend.”

Megatron scrambled to grab at the diminutive Lamborghini, prompting additional shots from his old rival’s weapons which forced him away. “Firing first, Optimus Prime? How positively un-Autobot of you!” He fired off another round with his fusion cannon, shooting both weapons out of the Autobot leader’s hands. “And yet, still ineffective.”

Another shot prompted Optimus to roll to one side and retrieve his ion cannon, his old partner pulling a tight hairpin maneuver beside him. “Mind lending a hand?”

“Never did!”

With those words, Sparkplug flipped into the air, plugging into a slot on Optimus’ back – where the top of his cab would be in his vehicle mode – after transforming again. The energy readings on his weapons changing colors, he turned to his old enemy. “Now, where were we?”

-

Moving as fast as his rotors could allow him at this height, Jolt kept his sensors fixed in all directions and thanking Primus in as many languages as he could think of that Megatron was the only Decepticon to appear so far. He was trained in recon and information-gathering, not combat – a fight was the last thing he needed, much less wanted.

“Well, look what crawled out of the service passage!”

The tiny Mini-Con was barely able to keep up his speed as an unfamiliar Decepticon charged in after him, trying to grab a hold of him with gold-colored hands.

“Come on…come on!” Cyclonus snarled in frustration as the little red helicopter weaved out of his reach and into the trees. If it wasn’t for all the vegetation and the tiny organic creatures darting around at his feet, he might have been able to keep up on foot. “Well, if this is the way you want it, we’ll play things the hard way!”

Suddenly, a hover-car slammed hard into his side, knocking him to the ground with a loud yelp, before it transformed into a red-and-yellow mech and whipped out a gun. “Back off, Decepticreep!”

The berserker recovered, looking at the Autobot with a manic expression. “‘Back off, Decepticreep’? What kind of corny line is that?” He fired off a laser bolt, prompting his opponent to dodge behind several trees. “And the name’s Cyclonus, squirt!”

Hot Shot tried his best to keep from being hit, a few glancing blows being the worst of his injuries, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could stop the Decepticon before him by himself. Just his luck to be alone again.

“Hey, kid! Heads up and Powerlink!”

The young Autobot’s optics widened as the Mini-Con swung around him and plugged into a slot on his back. While there hadn’t been a Mini-Con active on Cybertron since their exodus, the technology that went into allowing them to combine with both Autobots and Decepticons had never been forgotten. Hot Shot found little reason to wonder why Megatron was so dead set on them as a sudden charge went through his systems, prompting him to his feet, as well the rush of information being exchanged between the two, allowing them knowledge of each other’s name and at least forming a base-line relationship. The young soldier’s targeting visor came down as part of his back assembly flipped up and formed into a large cannon, allowing him to lock on and fire at Cyclonus into the distance with more punch than he thought possible.

“Call that corny!” His visor flipping back up, he gave a relieved sound. “Hey… Jolt, right? Thanks.”

A laugh from the Mini-Con helicopter as he disconnected. “Sounds like the information exchange is working perfectly. And don’t thank me, Hot Shot – I should be thanking you.” 

-

Animals fled from his path as Rollbar tore through the forest at top speed, darting between trees and hoping that he wouldn’t be noticed. While he didn’t mind getting into a scrap with a Decepticon – frag, he was happy to do it – right now was neither the time nor the place to do so.

As he neared the edge of a clearing, a missile slammed into the ground nearby, kicking up dirt and sending him flying into a large redwood. Transforming midair had him impacting hard against the tree, but not completely loosing his bearings as he dropped to his feet with a thud. He looked up to find a Decepticon towering over him, gun barrels replacing his fingers.

“All right, don’t try anything funny! I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if forced!”

The Mini-Con canted an optic ridge. “‘If forced?’ Mech, you obviously don’t know who you’re talking to.” One hand fisted, and with a focused charge, he punched the Decepticon in his heavily-armored leg. Hard.

Demolishor bellowed in pain, his armor buckling at the unexpected amount of force and causing him to drop to one knee, shocked that so tiny a Cybertronian could pack so powerful a punch. “Augh! How the slag–?!”

“If you think he hits hard, you should see who his sparring partner is.”

The heavily armed Decepticon only had a second to take note of the voice before a powerful chop was delivered to where his cognitive network was on the back of his cranium, namely his neck as it wasn’t as heavily armored due to the necessity of mobility. Thus, Demolishor went offline and dropped to the ground, rattling the nearby trees and scattering another flock of panicking birds. Scavenger smirked as he looked over his handiwork. “Gets ‘em every time.”

The Mini-Con at his feet laughed. “And here I thought I wouldn’t see you again, you old scrap-heap.” Rollbar held up a hand after yanking a branch out of a shoulder joint. “Missed you, Scavenger.”

The old Autobot chuckled, lightly tapping the open palm with a finger. “Likewise, old friend.”

-

Twisting a bit to get a bit more comfortable despite being held like a sack of potatoes around his waist, the blonde struggled to get a better look at their new “friend”. “Wait, High Wire… er, Grindor… uhm, Sureshock… What DO we call you when you’re like this?!”

“My combined designation is Perceptor,” the Mini-Con gestalt explained to Rad, leaping over a large boulder with ease.

“You sound like a guy!” Clinging as tight as possible to the combiner’s neck despite their rapid transit, Alexis couldn’t help but shriek, “Two of your component parts are girls! How does that even work?!”

“It’s complicated – try not to think about it.” The roar of jet engines caused Perceptor to look skywards and on noticing a familiar tetrajet form, he bit back one of the stronger curses. “Slag it! A Seeker!”

Before any of the kids could ask what a Seeker was, they got their answer: a fast-moving aircraft shaped like a tetrahedron rocketing above them before taking a sharp turn around and taking that very familiar bipedal form. The resulting robot landed and leveled a number of guns upon them, the barrels extending from what looked like a pair of engines at the ends of his arms. “Mini-Cons – abandon the fleshlings and surrender.”

Perceptor skidded to a halt, the three kids still holding firmly onto the ten-foot robot’s limbs and chest despite him having loosened his grip on the boys. “Go, he isn’t interested in harming any of you.”

“Wha–?! Like hell we’re lea–!”

Carlos was interrupted as a number of blaster shots fired into Thrust’s side, turning his attention away from the children and towards the nearby woods. He opened fire, his rounds simply setting a small bush on fire, but only to be shot at again from another direction. The Decepticon looking everywhere except at his quarries, the combined Mini-Con hissed at the kids to be released and dashed forward when they scrambled away. Thrust heard dirt being sprayed and noticed only just in time to get a rocket-boosted fist slammed into his face, forcing a variety of angry red banners to flash through his vision. A final shot prompted the gray Seeker to head skyward and depart with a bit of cursing, convinced that the price of failure was worth retreating from what appeared to be protective ghosts.

Rad cheered as Thrust flew off. “Nice going, Perceptor! I’ve got no idea how you did that, but whatever you did–!”

“It wasn’t him.” Soft footfalls heralded the arrival of another mech, colored blue and grey with deep red and bright orange-yellow highlights, two hands holding a long rifle with another stored for easy access. “Is everyone alright?”

The kids tensing behind him, Perceptor gave a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, kids – he’s an Autobot, one of the good guys.”

Alexis heaved a loud sigh of relief. “Finally – I was beginning to wonder if that one robot was all by himself.”

“Optimus Prime.” Blurr cast his sights back towards the mountain. “Don’t thank him yet – this battle’s far from over.”

-

The two leaders continued to brawl at the foot of the mountain, the Autobot leader having lost his firearms again save his forearm-mounted guns (Optimus didn’t want to risk an accidental discharge) and the Decepticon’s fusion cannon having been damaged in the fracas. Even with Sparkplug linked up, however, both opponents remained evenly matched, the two having gone close-quarters combat and grappling each other at the moment.

“It seems we are at a stalemate, Prime! Even with your Mini-Con, you cannot beat me!”

“Give it time, Megatron – I’m just getting warmed up!”

The Autobot leader gave a mighty shove just as a line came in over his opponent’s communicator, Thrust’s voice sounding through. _:“Lord Megatron, Cyclonus and Demolishor have been defeated, and the Autobots have managed to retrieve all of the Mini-Cons from the escape pod! We need to fall back, immediately!”:_

The warlord growled at his subordinate’s message, blocking a high kick. “Very well then, Prime – enjoy this victory while it lasts! You’ve won the day, but this war is far from over! Decepticons, withdraw!” Shoving Optimus aside, Megatron leapt back a distance before he gradually disappeared in a beam of light.

Optimus watched as his enemy left, optics and sensors tracing the beam skyward as best he could. Sparkplug disconnected from his port and climbed to stand on his partner’s shoulder, doing likewise with incredulity. “What was that, some kind of warp technology?”

“Orbital jump – he’s heading back to his ship.” The Autobot leader keyed on his own communicator. “Red Alert, Megatron’s forces just withdrew – can you track them?”

_:“Not well, I’m afraid. There’s too much debris in orbit and it’s causing interference. The Decepticons are based somewhere on Earth’s moon, that’s all I can tell.”:_

Vents expelled heated air, his cooling systems not working as hard as earlier. “Why am I not surprised? Find a suitable landing zone within visual distance of my position, and make descent. Hopefully, the humans’ surveillance systems haven’t picked us up yet.”

“Back in hiding, just like last time.” Shaking his head, Sparkplug could only wonder at what things will come as he now simply gazed at the seemingly empty blue sky. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” 

-

“You fools!” Demolishor and Cyclonus both cringed as Megatron bellowed at them, Thrust barely moving as he received his admonishments. “Not one of you was able to capture a Mini-Con!”

Safely hidden behind a cloaking field, the _Nemesis_ had landed as the four were sent down to retrieve the Mini-Cons. While the ship would not be departing again for some time, thanks to Starscream’s piloting it would have very little difficulty in doing so. The five Decepticons stood gathered in its command center, several consoles ringing the room and a large command chair in the center, currently occupied by Megatron.

“But Megatron, sir, the Autobots…” the tank started.

“Are nothing! They wouldn’t bother to send a massive force to a planet this backward and remote! You are Decepticons, my fighting elite! You should have defeated them easily!”  
Cyclonus barely managed a squeak, more than scared after Demolishor had been yelled at. “But one of them Powerlinked with a Mini-Con, sir.”  
Megatron fumed for a moment, keeping silent as he digested that information. “Then it seems we will need to intensify our efforts. We’ll start with attacking the humans, as I doubt they would be able to defend against us.”

“I would advise against that, Lord Megatron.” Starscream briefly glanced from his console, several images flashing over the screens before him. “I’ve been using the ship’s computers to access the human satellite network, and managed to gain some valuable intelligence concerning their military capabilities.”

“Their military capabilities are hardly unknown, Starscream. They have no powerful weapons, no fusion cannons, no reliable laser or plasma weaponry, no working electromagnetic cannons… They don’t even have functioning interstellar craft! What do they have that could harm us?” he all but sneered.

“Numbers, milord.” The Seeker’s tone was serious, not backing down at his commander’s belligerence when he finally looked up. “Striking from orbit with this vessel would require us to just be at the edge of its atmosphere and dedicate considerable power to the fusion generators – that would make us vulnerable to their long-range missile systems, primitive as they may be. And if we five were to strike on the planet’s surface near any major civilization, we’d be overwhelmed by a number of military vehicles, namely their tanks and aircraft. True, our armor will be able to take the hits but only to a certain extent, especially for those of us flight capable and if they’re smart enough to aim at our joints. In addition, some of their handheld weaponry can actually deal out significant damage if they were able to get in physically close enough to us or, again, aim for vulnerable spots on our bodies. Also, I’m detecting latent radiation markers in several corners of the planet, no doubt the result of nuclear testing. Based on what I know of this world, they will resort to such weapons if provoked sufficiently enough.”

The warlord growled lowly, all the more causing Cyclonus and Demolishor to quiver. Who would have thought that such a primitive race could still have capabilities to cause harm to them! As much as Megatron wanted to dismiss his Aerial Commander’s warnings, he felt heeding the caution in this case would be more… prudent. “Then it appears we are left with few choices. What do you advise, Starscream?”

Starscream tilted his head acquiescingly, ignoring how Thrust bristled at being passed over on what to do for their next move. “That we adopt new alternative forms to fight the Autobots on Earth, disguised from the humans. If they do not know of us, they are less likely to attack us. Besides, their weapons technology is powerful in their own right with the right modifications and adjustments. Perhaps we can pick up a few of their tricks.”

Megatron thought for a moment, examining over the recommendation and he had to grudgingly admit that his second-in-command had a valid suggestion. “Very well – use the human satellites to find suitable vehicles to disguise us. Then, we shall begin our search. If Earth is to be our battleground, then we shall have the upper hand.” He returned his attention to the remaining trio. “The rest of you, prepare the CR Chambers for the conversion process!”

The three warriors barked in acknowledgement before rushing to their assigned duties, Megatron leaving to retire to his chambers. Starscream, now alone, stayed at his console and already selecting several potential vehicle modes that suited their mass and requirements. Orange optics momentarily glanced towards the windows, Earth hanging in the distance like a glowing blue orb.

“Glad you could make it, Optimus,” he whispered so softly none of the others would’ve been able to hear him, even if they had been present in the room. “It’ll be good to see you again after so long.”

-

As soon as they were reassured that the Decepticons would not be returning for the time being, and that their fight didn’t attract any local law enforcement, the Autobots and the Mini-Cons rendezvoused near the tunnel where the escape pod was discovered. Introductions went around with names being exchanged, the students having to take a few minutes to explain the point of their family names (which Blurr seemed to find senseless, Rollbar countering that it helped foster stronger group bonds), as well the reason for the Autobots’ appearance on Earth.

“Well done, Autobots. For now at least, no Mini-Cons are under Megatron’s control. We’ll need to be ready for when he returns, however, and trust me, he won’t take this loss lightly.”

“Forgive my interruption, Prime, but I think we may have another problem.” Blurr nodded his head towards the human trio, still huddled among the now separated Street Action Team. “What do we do with these three?”

“Honestly, Blurr? I think there’s only one thing we can do.” The Autobot leader carefully knelt down to one knee so as not to appear as imposing, mindful of the fact that they were still looking up at him with a bit of apprehension, although he could see the shock was slowly wearing off. “My apologies if we startled you, children. On behalf of my people and my comrades-in-arms, thank you for finding these six Mini-Cons and bringing them back online. The rest of my team is currently working to land our ship – they should be arriving within the next several minutes or so, once a descent course has been plotted.”

“Um, Optimus… what happens once your ship lands? Will you just take the Mini-Cons and leave?” Rad hesitantly asked, stepping away from High Wire but still staying near her.

The Autobot leader shook his head ruefully. “There are many more Mini-Cons where these six came from, and Megatron’s going to do everything in his power to retrieve them all and enslave them. Until he is defeated and the threat to them and your world has passed, we will be staying here.”

“Which means assuming local vehicle modes, figuring out planetary customs, and doing what we can to stay under the radar.” Scavenger jerked his head at the kids. “Not to mention keeping an eye on these three – Megatron and Thrust both saw them with the Mini-Cons.”

“Agreed.” His optics returned to the middle school students. “I’ve one more favor to ask of you, children. If knowledge of our existence became public, we could potentially create a panic among your people. Anonymity is probably the best solution we have to prevent that problem for the time being and to maintain it, we need to remain hidden from your planet’s population and for you three to keep our secret. Can I count on your assistance?”

Awestruck at the concept of keeping a secret of this magnitude and eager to help where they could, the three of them seemed elated at the idea. But a swiftly sobering thought hit them at the same time – if they were going to be interacting with robotic aliens that could transform into almost anything mechanical, or at least anything with a mechanical and technological nature, they were going have to be careful with their excuses. An even a more terrifying thought that entered their minds was what would happen if the government found out – conspiracy theories regarding the infamous “men in black” and Area 51 had been a discussion just a few days ago after a weekend marathon of Unsolved History. Toss in having browsed through conspiracy forums, it certainly had left them a bit unsettled.

Smiles replaced with seriousness, Rad spoke up for his schoolmates, not flinching under the bright gazes. “We won’t tell anyone – I don’t think anyone will believe us anyway. Something might pop up on the Internet, but we can’t exactly do much about that. Still, we’ll do what we can.”

Beneath his faceplate, Optimus smiled. “That is more than enough. Thank you.” Yes, a new war had begun, and there would be trying times ahead. For now, however, he and his team had achieved a victory. They were at the beginning of a new journey, and there was much to be done. 


End file.
